


A Dance with Death

by wybie



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: AU, Dark Will, Dom/sub Undertones, Hannibal is Death, Hannibal is still a cannibal, Healthy Relationships, Kissing, LITERALLY, Like, M/M, Murder Husbands, Possessive Behavior, Romantic courting, Slow Burn, Wills parents are ocs, and guess what, hell yea we’re going to love and appreciate eachother, it AdDs to thE StoRY OkAy ???, theres alot of death, typos are my writing style ok, underworld place, will is a cannibal too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14463696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wybie/pseuds/wybie
Summary: Who thought Death would want to be alive again? Surely not him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know nothing

It’s good to know when everything goes to shit, dogs will always be there. Dogs will be there wagging their tails waiting to get pet. Here’s a story about a boy surviving the impossible but still dying in the end.

You thought just because this is already a cliché, It was going to become one even more? You thought just because he survived the impossible he was going to live forever, right? Well you’re wrong, maybe right. It depends on how you look at it. 

What is about to be told to you is very import-(voice fades out as a train suspiciously passes by)

A woman crosses the street holding what looks to be 1 year old baby boy in one arm and a phone in the other. 

“I know, I know mom I just,” she huffed out a long breath, “I just need some space from him- Will needs space from him.” She said while opening a local cafes door. Opon hearing a loud chime she jumps and startles not only her child and mother but almost everyone else trying to enjoy the peaceful cafe.

She laughs nervously, eyes darting around trying to avoid the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her. She rushes over to the line with her now awaking child in her arms and phone still on her shoulder, silently arguing with the older woman on the other end of the phone.

“Honey all I’m saying is that man is your baby’s father,” her mother stressed loudly, so loudly Willow knew the people around her could hear.

The woman sighs sadly and says, “I know but I’m not going, sorry- running back to him. Especially after what he did to me.” she paused looking at the menu, gently rocking her son. Trying to blink the tears away from her eyes.

“Sweetheart, Im not saying tha-“ Her mom stammered, fully realizing how rude her previous statement sounded. 

“Sure whatever mom I have to go. Will’s waking up and I need to get food.” She hung up angrily, mad at her mother for being a hypocrite, and mad at herself for mistakes her mom brought up.

“Hi what can I get you?”

“Yes can I- can i please get a small black coffee with um,” she paused thinking what to get for Will that was somewhat easy to eat.

“And a plain vanilla muffin please.” She smiled nervously remembering how she basically shared her issues with everyone in the cafe.

“And what’s your name?” The handsome dark skinned man asked.

“Willow”

“Alright, Thank you.”

The woman turns away from the cashier and starts walking towards a empty table. She puts her phone in her pocket still worrying and feeling bad about how she treated her mother.

She sits down not fully relaxing while adjusting her baby so he now lays comfortably in her arms. She waits for her food with other people’s conversations in the background.

“One black coffee and a vanilla muffin for Willow.

“She jumps in her seat a bit but gets up to get food. “It’s going to be $7.89” 

She hands the man the money and mumbles a small “thank you” never meeting his eyes.

She then goes and slips back into her seat putting the food on the table. She raises a shaky hand holding her coffee and takes a long sip, making a face after the bitter aftertaste.  
Will makes a noise of contentment while reaching small, chubby grabby hands to the plain muffin.

She guesses if someone could truly see her face, one would see a face filled with love and joy. Putting her coffee down with her only available hand, she takes a tiny piece of muffin and hands it over to Will.

Will takes the piece of food shoves his entire hand into his mouth. She laughs softly and watchs as his almost doll like eyes widen. He makes small grabby hands again and coos as to ask for more.

She takes small pieces of the muffin and gives it to him untill he’s satisfied and ate under a quarter of the muffin. She takes that as a win and kisses his forehead while he grows bored and begins to look around.

She looks out of the window, slowly drinking her coffee in one hand and holding her son in the other. She watches the cars pass by feeling fear in the deep, dark, abyss that is her mind but not fully indulging it. Giving it the satisfaction of her acting opon her irrational thoughts would be a mistake. A mistake she so often makes. She throws out her coffee and the wasted muffin, not feeling quite right but leaving anyways.

She walks out of the cafe, boucing Will in her arms. She walks as quickly as possible given as she has a baby in her arms. Walking back to her apartment feeling like shes being watched but never truly looking back to see who it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha i wanna die

Years went on from that day in the coffee shop. Life went on. Until it didnt, it rather changed. One cold, starless night long after Will has gone to bed, Willow thought long and hard. Harder then usual with more self-doubt then normal. She wanted the best life for her son, wether she was in it or not. She wanted Will to be free from her mistakes and for him to carry on without so many burdens Willow has to give.

She wants, _no_ , needs Will to have a normal life. She doesn’t want Will to suffer and make the same awful mistakes she has. It has to be this way.

She slowly gets up from her spot on the kitchen floor and puts Will’s drawing back on the fridge. It was a messy drawing of her and Will. Below the drawing, written in messy baby scrawl, _bested momy._ She remembers the day Will gave it to her like it was yesterday. 

_It was one of Willow’s bad days. One where she didn’t want to get out of bed. One where only the sound of Will crying could make her get out of her bed. She got up and went into Will’s room and picked him out of his bed._

_”Will are you hungry?,” Willow asked while walking down the creaky steps, adjusting Will to comfort._

_All Willow heard was baby babble and looked down at her son. Will saw this and    decided to shove his small, chubby hand in his mouth._

_”I’ll take that as a yes,”_

_Willow put Will on his playmat in the living room and started cooking eggs. The eggs took all her attention, so much so that she never noticed Will got up and found a crayon and piece of paper._

_Willow put the eggs on a small plate and brought this with her to the living room._

_“Willy, what’s this?” Willow asks now standing infront of Will and looking down._

_Will looks up and smiles at Willow and shoves his picture in the air, right infront of his face but showing Willow perfectly what was on the paper._

_A very messy drawing indeed. One that showed Willow and Will and  “bested momy” right below them._

_”Oh Will” she stated, voice thick with a emotion, tears in her eyes._

The memory fades and Willow puts it in a special folder in her mind, just for Will.

She begins her journey up the steps. She never really liked steps because when all lights are off, you can’t see what’s coming down or coming up. Shes makes it up to the second floor, and as soon as she gets up on the last step, she turns her head to look down.

Even with the lights on, she feels as she is being watched. She knows she’s being watched and that someone know’s exactly what she’s going to do. It doesnt bother her as much as it should.

She ever so slowly opens Will’s door and stands in the doorway. From her spot, she can already tell Will’s awake and waiting for her to pick him up.

“Little fishy, what are you doing awake,” she softly coos while walking to Will’s crib.

Willow walks to Will’s bed and bends down to pick him up. The second he is up on her chest, he puts his head on her shoulder and whimpers.

Even at three years old, Will doesnt like to talk.  
Willow doesnt force him because everytime she does get him to try to talk, he goes into lockdown.

Its not screaming and breaking things, its more like crying and staying in a corner and not eating.  
She took him to a doctor because even at age three he should be showing sighs of talking. The doctor said and insisted, nothing was wrong. Even she knew that was bullshit.

Gently rocking Will, she hummed a song that Will so dearly loved. She closed her eyes and listened to Will’s calm breathing. She heard a more hesitant and unsure hum of the song, and that was the answer she needed.

Will was perfect in her eyes.

Willow sat down on the old rocking chair her mom gave her and kept humming to sooth Will.

She knew this would be the last time.

She knew this would aleast make things better for some time.

Will deserved the world, Willow knew she couldnt give it to him, she couldnt even give him a stable home.

This had to be done.

Getting up from her spot with Will fast asleep on her chest, she walked out of the room. Not before talking Will’s favorite stuffed fish and his green blanket. She cautiously walked down steps, putting the green blanket all around Will.

While walking out of her house that night, she took one long, hard look at herself in the mirror.

There stood a tall, lanky figure. One with hollow cheeks and eyes, that only gain life while looking at her world. She saw short, chopped brown hair, that shined with grease because she couldnt bring herself to shower. She realised the person she was looking at was herself and sneered in disgust.

She walked quickly that night, without one ouce of hesitation. She walked the allyways, where drug users were scattered on the floor. The only sound she heard was her heels clicking the pavement and the sound of soft breathing. She knew only one mattered and that was of her son.

She finally made it to her destination. A old, falling apart church. She knew this church well. It used it’s money for the people, it opened the community to something peaceful, and above all that, she grown up in this church.

She pushed the doors open and admired the sight that laid before her.

Stained windows covered the sides of the building, the old, dark oak pews lined up and highlighted the carpet on the floor. The old, french written bibles in their rightful spot infront of the pews.

An old homeless man laid out in the middle of pews, rested with a frown on his face and a bible nestled in his arms.

It looked to Willow the man was dead, and the sick thought of how he’s better off where he is now then where he was, crosses her mind.

She walks up the runway and takes will off her chest. “Willy baby, I love you more then you could imagine,” she whispers, tears starting to form in her eyes “I brought you into this world because I was foolish to think that I could provide everything you deserve.”

Willow slowly walks up some steps to get to a chair where the priest would sit. She finds it weird that a priest wouldn’t be at the church to stop her from what she is about to do.

“Im doing this so you don’t have to be around someone who has so many targets on her back. Someone who doesnt bring pain and sorrow everywhere she goes,” she says with more volume but her breath still hitching and salty tears running down her thin face. “You won’t understand why I did this, but know-“ she cuts off kissing Will’s forehead and gently places will on the chair, wrapped up in a blanket with his fish with him.

“I adore you-“ she slowly walks backwards still never taking her eyes off Will’s peaceful sleeping face, trying. to memorize everything, every detail about her son and hopes that no one will take this away from her. She will give everything up, just not every second she had with Will.

“I love you my son,” she says with so much meaning she thinks no one will ever get the same meaning again.

She turns around and walks down the walk way.

With her hand on the door ready to pull open, she takes one last look of a life she wanted, but didnt deserve.

She walks out.

That night no one would ever hear from Willow again. Druggies say they saw her talking with a man with burgundy eyes and talk about how they saw the man take her neck in his hands and end her life.

No one of course, believes them, just like how no one believes that Will boy at the orphanage when he says theres a man that tells him tales of his mother.

**Author's Note:**

> i suck almost as much as ur mom on the weekends  
> im not done with the story its just Ao3 is being a bitch


End file.
